American

Philadelphia-style ice cream is made with no eggs, so it can be mixed together in a New York minute. It gets it name because at one time there was a proliferation of dairy farms around Philadelphia. I’ve made this vanilla ice cream successfully with all heavy cream as well as with a mixture of cream and milk, and I like it both ways.

Moussaka is a quintessential Greek dish, and one that every American knows. Usually a delicious dish of layered eggplant, ground beef or lamb, tomatoes, onions, and, best of all, a thick custard topping, moussaka is one of my personal favorites. This version calls for only vegetables, a not-uncommon variation found in rural Greece. It does well in the slow cooker, but may be just a bit juicier than if baked in an open casserole dish in the oven.

Apples and walnuts ripen at about the same time, and are often grown in the same region. Pair them with a crusty, rustic loaf of bread, some spices, milk, and eggs, and you’ve got a perfect dessert for a fall afternoon. Puddings and bread puddings are particularly easy to make in a slow cooker, and the results are nearly always perfect.

Chili, a quintessential slow cooker meal, is not a traditional Mexican dish. Rather, it seems to be Southwestern in its inception. It is sort of a combination of the dried beans and chiles so readily available in the Southwest with the wonderful spices brought by Europeans to Mexico. This particular version is generously seasoned with spices and chili powder and has been pieced together by me over the course of a few years. The following recipe makes a big mess o’ chili and is best done in a 6- or 7-quart slow cooker.

Grits, a traditional Southern breakfast dish, are often served topped with butter and cheese. They fill hungry bellies and stick to the ribs for many hours. Technically, grits are coarsely ground hominy, and they are white in color, while polenta is ground, dried yellow corn. But in the United States (outside the Deep South), the two are often used interchangeably. It’s best if you can find the stone-ground real thing, but if not, you can use the instant grits that are available in nearly every grocery store or mail-order them from a source that specializes in grains, such as Bob’s Red Mill in Oregon. I recommend using a 2- to 3-quart slow cooker so that your grits don’t dry out overnight.

It’s a misconception that the French don’t like American food. Step into any bakery in Paris and you’re likely to see one of two things: le gâteau au fromage or les brownies. Usually the cheesecake is pretty good, but the brownies are too often pale facsimiles. For some reason that I don’t understand, the French never put enough chocolate in their brownies. In my efforts to promote international understanding, I hand out brownies freely to my Parisian friends in hopes that pretty soon, someone will get the message and ramp up the fudginess of French brownies. (Perhaps it’s because the word “fud-gee” isn’t part of the French vocabulary?) And because I sometimes can’t help showing off my American audaciousness, I’ll whip up this recipe that combines the best of both the cheesecake and brownie worlds and pass the squares around. They tend to take people by surprise—I think the French need a little more time to get used to such a cra-zee combination.

I almost started an international incident when I put some pictures of my black and white cookies on my blog. People went ballistic because I didn’t include a recipe. The problem was that I didn’t know who to credit since my recipe is culled from a variety of sources. Like New York City, the spiritual home to these cookies, my sources and inspiration for them are the ultimate melting pot: a Seinfeld episode, an email from food maven Arthur Schwartz, a recipe from the legendary Zabar’s, and George Greenstein’s comprehensive tome, Secrets of a Jewish Baker.

Sweet, creamy mashed banana pulp is an ideal soufflé base, but if you think bananas are just too humble to be turned into an elegant dessert worthy of serving to guests, try these simple soufflés spruced up with some warm chocolate sauce passed alongside. Be sure the bananas that you use are really ripe—the skins of yellow bananas (as opposed to red ones that are less common) should be covered with black speckles and their texture should be soft.

A few years back, I attended a class at a French pastry school that was, of course, taught by a French chef. If you’ve not worked with French chefs before, you quickly realize that to them, there’s one way to do things—and only one way. Our chef, for example, insisted on doing a cold infusion for tea, letting it steep in the refrigerator overnight. To prove his point, he steeped some tea in warm cream as well so we could later compare the results. The next day, when we had the tasting, there were muted murmurs amongst the students that we much preferred the warm infusion, but no one dared say anything to the chef. We just all nodded in agreement that the cold infusion tasted better. I still infuse tea in warm cream for custards because to me, the proof is in the pudding. Or, in this case, the crème brûlée.

The surprising zip of fruit chutney counters the richness of mousse au chocolat and adds a whole other dimension to this unconventional dessert. I don’t know if it’s a combination the French would approve of, but when I made it as a pastry chef on a cruise line, a few thousand people gave their consent. Each plate that came back to the kitchen was scraped clean. Unlike traditional chocolate mousse that uses uncooked eggs, this one has a cooked custard base. So, there’s no reason for anyone with concerns about consuming raw eggs to jump ship rather than dive into this dessert full-steam ahead.

I’m a big fan of fruit crisps. When I worked at Chez Panisse, I learned I wasn’t alone—they were more popular than our signature dark chocolate cake. But I’m not entirely convinced that I’d choose a fruit crisp over chocolate cake. Maybe I’d order both in the name of research. This fruit crisp topping, made with crunchy polenta, stands up well to the juiciest mélange of fruits. Here, I mix apples and pears, and it may seem like a lot of fruit when you’re doing all that peeling and slicing, but it cooks down considerably during baking. Use a good baking apple, such as Gravenstein, Winesap, Pippin, Northern Spy, or Cortland.

The first time my parents took me to Disneyland, they probably assumed that they’d be spending the day racing after an energetic tyke who’d try to get on as many rides as possible. Instead of hitting all the main attractions, I discovered the Welch’s grape-colored pavilion and begged my parents to let me spend the day there, chugging inky-purple Concord grape juice. I doubt the pavilion is still there, but it was the start of my lifelong love affair with this native American grape. You might think seeding the quantity of grapes for this recipe would require a considerable amount of time. But I timed myself, and it took less than 30 minutes. Simply slice each grape in half and pluck out the seeds. If you have kids, you can get them to assist, although don’t hold me responsible if any of them develops a grape addiction as a result.

Get the defibrillator ready; you might have a heart attack. If the calories and fat don’t get you, the unbelievable explosion of flavor will. It’s worth it, though. Trust me, I’m a doctor. In fact, my Hippocratic oath requires me to tell you that any leftover Sriracha–blue cheese spread makes an excellent dip for sweet potato fries. now take this prescription to your local grocery store to be filled immediately!

Sorry, guys—no “In a Pinch” quick fix here. If you want proper pulled pork, you gotta give it the time it needs. An overnight brine bath helps keep it moist through the long, slow, 12-hour journey to porcine perfection. Serve the pulled pork on hamburger buns, drizzled with your favorite barbecue sauce or more Sriracha, if you feel so inclined.

Ready to think outside the box? While it may take a touch more time than its boxed counterpart, this creamy casserole is exponentially better than anything off the grocery shelves. The light crunch of the panko bread crumbs set against the thick, gooey underbelly of cheese-laden pasta makes for a most decadent taste and texture experience. Feel free to experiment, trading out some of the Cheddar for Gruyère or a smoked Gouda, if you so desire.

Grits are a true thing of beauty when properly cooked. Unfortunately, instant grits can never come close. If you’re really pressed for time, wait for a pleasant Sunday morning when you can afford those few extra minutes. Your patience will be rewarded.

Chili con carne is one of my favorite one-pot crowd-pleasers, and incorporating a healthy dose of Sriracha just makes it that much more delectable. However, I must disclose to my fellow chili-philes: consider having an antacid aperitif (or two) before voraciously devouring this recipe. You’ve been warned. Enjoy with Bacon-Sriracha Cornbread (page 78).

The inherent sweetness of corn works so unbelievably well with the smoky undertones imparted by roasting it over a direct flame, you’ll be craving a hot soup even on the warmest of days.

Dear Idaho: plant more potatoes. Once people swipe a fry or tater tot through Sriracha Ketchup, only two major food groups will exist: 1) Sriracha Ketchup, and 2) potatoes. Oh, did I mention this turns hash browns and home fries into a new kind of incredible? Besides its propensity for spuds, this crimson condiment works wonders for burgers, corndogs, hot dogs, meatloaf, and much more.

Sweet cherries are delicious as a cake filling and make a luscious topping for cheesecake.